Out of my league AU
by Merthergirl
Summary: in which Sherlock is an A-list celebrity and John is a GP. Sherlock x John, plus Moriarty may have a scheme or two to make life very... interesting for them...
1. In which the VIP section holds just two

Out of my league Au

**In which Sherlock is an A-list celebrity (actor/singer/model) and John a primary school teacher. **

**Please review, and check out my other fics too :3 **

_**One- in which the VIP section holds just two. **_

Irene Adler- model, singer, playboy bunny and soon-to-be actress- smiled her trademark smile as she clinked champagne glasses with her boyfriend, Sherlock Holmes- actor, singer, musician, model, billionaire. They were there, in the Plaza's VIP section, to celebrate her debut film as an actress- and the first film they starred in together- _To know you,_ a romance. And Irene was sure she had never been happier.

Dressed in a purple, elegant- and designer- dress that swept to her feet and clung onto her breasts, revealing her curves wonderfully, her gorgeous look was completed by her newly dyed chocolate-colour hair, which was tied in a loose bun with a wavy fringe. Her makeup was not what you could call subtle- but that was her style. Outstanding.

She wrapped her slender arm around her boyfriend's Armani-suited-arm and took a sip from his cup, as he did hers, giving herself a moment to take him in.

He was tall, skinny and incredibly handsome- god Irene knew how much those girls outside died to touch his cheekbones- and his hair fell over his face in silk curls. The suit he wore was fitted and looked stunning, as did those new shoes his manager, Lestrade, had picked out for him.

They turned around, smiling at the cameras, once more before retreating behind the red rope- opened and closed promptly by bodyguards- and into the private VIP section.

It was a section not for VIPs. It was a section for them. A-list celebrities have to go somewhere, you know.

Sherlock lay down on the leather of the sofa and applied another nicotine patch, calling out that he wanted to go home. Irene smiled fondly and dabbed on some more blusher, screaming at the makeup woman that she wasn't retarded, she could do it herself.

Sherlock chuckled, "My you have a beastly temper."

"Oh, shut it, you." Irene rolled her eyes and applied more lipstick.

"How long do you spend a day preening?" Sherlock teased, "5 hours? 10 hours?"

Irene threw the lipstick at him. Luckily he dodged and it missed his suit, but Sherlock grew irritated. He slammed the glass down on the table, before, shaking slightly, he nodded, "Sorry."

"It's ok." Irene said. But she had stood and backed against the dressing table. He'd never struck her, but she knew that his temper was as bad as hers. And she'd slapped him several times. It was well overdue that he should lash out.

Irene yawned and sat down, flicking on the tv. Sherlock sat too, an ashamed look on his face.

"Look at that face." Irene cooed, "I love this face."

Sherlock smiled, weakly, "Thank you."

"For what, honey?"

"Not hitting me again." Sherlock chuckled, faking being a victim again. Irene leant against him and lit a cigarette, not caring that the smoke filled his lungs too. She knew there was one way to make Sherlock kiss her- offer him smoke from her mouth. Sure enough, as soon as she inhaled again the force of the man's lips on hers made her moan.

This was it. Their life. And god they both hated it.

…

John Watson was never one to leer at women. As his mates sat there, mooning over Miss Adler, he'd have to look away, feeling could never look at women like that, because all he saw was either his darling baby girl… or her mother. Her mother that had died in child birth.

He was a doctor! A good one too! How much he hated himself for that! Why couldn't he save his dear Sarah?

As it turned out, John learnt at his wife's funeral, she was the sister of Miss Adler. That, was strange. Not one to enjoy the limelight, John hadn't had any contact with the celebrity, or her friends.

Until now. Her birthday. His daughter, Sarah Jr, was turning thirteen. A big occasion, and her aunty Irene had invited her out for said celebration. So this was it. John stood at the corner of the street, holding his daughter's hand, waiting for a taxi to their house, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

**Sorry if it's badly written hehe please review!**


	2. In which John is concerned

Out of my league- 2- in which John is concerned.

**Please review, and if you like this story check out my other ones :D and the poll on my profile haha :3 **

Sarah jr turned to her dad and asked, with a nervous smile, "What is auntie Irene like dad?"

John frowned, "I'm not sure. We've never really spoken, only at your mother's funeral."  
Sarah jr sighed and turned to him, "But she was nice, right?"

John thought about all the stories in the magazines and papers. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. "She seems… to have a colourful personality…"

"She's beautiful too." Sarah jr said, swinging her arms as she hurried a little ahead, "All the boys in my class fancy her. More than they fancy Kimberly, and she's so grown up she's got curves."  
"Do they?" John asked. He knew why the boys in Sarah jr's class fancied Miss Adler more than the girls they knew. Two things on her chest that she often showed to the world. He'd be dammed if every picture those boys had seen did not have her breasts on display to the world. He felt sorry for the poor bugger who called himself her husband; women like that are hardly loyal. How did his Sarah become so respectable and loving with an elder sister like that?

"Yes." Sarah jr said. Then she stopped, looking down at herself, "Dad?"

"Yes?" John smiled fondly at his daughter. His forehead, despite his expression, was lined with wrinkles, from stress of his job, tiredness because he worked so late into every night and early every morning and sadness, from the heartbreak of loosing the only woman he'd ever loved. Sarah jr was glad that she was there, and she feared that if she hadn't been… he wouldn't be either.

"Why don't I look like a woman yet?" She asked, glancing down at the chubbiness of her body, the flat chest and podgy legs. John, thinking on how to answer for a moment put his hands gently on her shoulders.

"You did about it in health class, honey."  
"I know…" Sarah jr shuffled her feet, "But it seems to be happening to everyone but me."

"Some people are slower." John shrugged, "That's how things are. But its ok that you're slow, because you are my little girl now- not that you won't be when you're older- but it means that I get to pretend that you're still five and won't be leaving me to go to boy's houses soon."

"Dad!" Sarah jr said, "I will never leave you." She held his hand and smiled as he ruffled her hair affectionately. How could she ever leave him? She loved him to pieces, and hated herself whenever she went out, let alone to a boy's house! How could she leave him all alone in the house where he'd lost his wife? She knew she'd only ever feel comfortable with leaving if he had someone there to look after him. but John hadn't liked any of the women she'd set him up with in the past… Sarah jr wondered if he could ever love again.

The bell rang in a loud staccato melody, and Sarah jr shared a look of distaste with her father, who was still wearing his work outfit, and had a stethoscope hanging out his pocket. As a much respected GP, he was allowed his own private medical kit, so he wouldn't be in trouble if he accidentally kept some of it in his coat etc, like now.

As a maid in an astonishingly short skirt, tight corset top and stockings up to her thighs opened the door, John felt the need to cover his daughter's eyes, but refrained from doing so when he realised that if all of them dressed like it- which they probably did- it would be pointless.

"You must be John. And Sarah, right?"  
"Yes." John said, "And you are, miss?"

"Oh," she laughed, "My name is Sinita Moran, and I'm Miss Adler's assistant. I'm dressed like this because I have a similar build to her, and she needs this outfit for her latest photo shoot and is too busy to try it herself."

"Oh." John said, "That makes… sense…"

Sarah jr, staring in dismay at the woman's figure, closed her mouth quickly.

"Won't you come in?" Miss Moran smiled sickly-sweetly, and gestured past her into the house.

The entrance hall of the house was grand, and overly decorated for John's taste, but Sarah jr seemed in awe of the velvet sweeping curtains, the plain white starched sofas. John sighed, and wondered how they kept such a large house so clean.

As they were lead to the stairs Miss Moran suddenly froze, smiling weakly. They watched in wonder as she stiffly turned around at the door, from which a slim man wearing a Westwood suit and holding a clipboard full of papers emerged, his eyes glimmering as he glanced at them. He was followed by an array of tailors, who immediately went to Miss Moran's attire and tightened it. she sighed and raised her eyebrows at John and Sarah jr, as if they'd understand.

"My apologies." The man said, smiling equally sweetly, "I am James Moriarty, manager of the estate and agent to Miss Adler. Can I help you?"

"Um…" John grabbed Sarah Jr's shoulder and said, "I am John Watson and this is my daughter, Sarah jr."

"Ah." Moriarty looked less pleased as he surveyed Sarah Jr. John felt a surge of parental protectiveness and he glowered at the snooty man, who smiled perfectly innocently back.

"Right this way. Miss Adler should be out in a moment." He sat them down outside a crystallised glass bedroom door before returning to the hall.

"Idiot!" Moriarty snapped at Moran, who sighed and whined that she hated this body.

"Well no-one would believe that all Adler's staff were men, would they?" Moriarty groaned, "Why did you let them in?"

"They'd suspect if we didn't!" Moran grumbled, tugging at the clothes, "Besides, they can't do that much harm!"

"They can do every bit of harm possible!" Moriarty went to strike her, but stopped, sighing, "Ok. We can just about handle this. Just make sure they don't- for the love of god- catch on! And keep Adler's trap shut!"

Moran nodded and scurried off, the tailors following her. Moriarty growled and went to his room, where the maid sat in Moran's body, sobbing to herself, frozen with fear. _If she keeps crying,_ Moriarty thought, _I will put a stop to her. We could bury her with Sherlock._

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	3. In which Irene and Sherlock have a fight

Three- In which Irene and Sherlock have a fight.

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Irene Adler, dressed in just lacy lingerie, glowered at her boyfriend, who had barely noticed her attire. "Yes, dear, you look nice. It really compliments you." Sherlock said lamely, without looking up from his newspaper. Irene, groaning, undid her hair- which had been in a bun- and removed her bra. She threw it onto his lap, half-ready to scream at him to PAY ATTENTION TO ME! Other men would DIE to be near her, let alone to have her!

Instead of ravishing her like she expected, Sherlock peered curiously at the bra and said, with his silken voice, "Is this a push up?"

Irene, screeching, smacked him across the face, seething. Sherlock did nothing for a moment, sitting there in silence, before he moved the newspaper aside and shoved her down onto the floor, as calm as anything. Irene, terrified of him for the moment, remained there, under his strong hand, which held her to the carpet until he moved, standing and going to the window.

"Don't make me angry or I swear-"

"Swear to what?" She sat up, glowering at the discarded bra on the bed, "God? Ha! Like you'd ever believe there was any being higher than yourself!"

"I don't need this." Sherlock said, still calmly, but his eyes glittered with rage.

"Oh really? You don't need this? Need what, Sherlock? Need a girlfriend who actually wants physical contact once in a while?"

Sherlock, swallowing, said nothing, just scowled at her. His eyes remained on her face. They didn't once trace her perfect curves. Irene felt rage expel from her as she spat, "You know, any men would LOVE to have me here! To have me want to have sex with them! But you…. You are something else you bastard!"

Sherlock didn't even flinch. He just went to the balcony, leaving her alone in the room, panting, feeling her chest rise and fall heavily. _Fucking hell, _she thought, _he's a piece of work. But then again, _She looked at herself as she dressed into short shorts and a crop top, _so are you. _

She sighed and went to leave, to complain about Sherlock to one of the maids, and jumped when she saw Sarah jr and John. Blushing crimson, she welcomed them, and asked if they'd wait downstairs for a second. As soon as she had shut the door she strode across the room, going out onto the balcony, where Sherlock was smoking. "They're here. At least pretend to be pleasant in their company."

Sherlock chuckled, "Then I won't go down."

"Fine." Irene scowled, and stormed out the room and down the stairs.

Sherlock watched her go, bemused, before turning back out to the stunning view they had. He watched with some dull interest the smoke from the cigarette flying off into the breeze. _I should quit._ He told himself, _but its sometimes too stressful to cope with. _And the last time he didn't have a cigarette to calm himself he'd broken down in tears. No way was he going to cry in front of Irene. Nor in front of anyone. Never. Not again.

**I know it was short, the next one will be longer :3 **


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